


Fourth

by isitandwonder



Series: Sherlock Advent Calendar [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, a bit filthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:45:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5349659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isitandwonder/pseuds/isitandwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Where did you learn to give head like this?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fourth

„Oh my god… Sherlock… just… go slow.”

Having Sherlock Holmes's mouth on your cock proved not only mindboggling but nearly fatal. John's heart rate had sped up quite alarmingly and at this very moment he felt on the brink of passing out due to sheer blissful ecstasy.

It had all started with collapsing on the sofa – again – this time after a thrilling case involving forgery and theft spiced with a bit of arson. That was why both of them had smelled a bit smoked and shedding their reeking clothes upon arrival back at Baker Street had seemed the sensible thing to do. They'd tossed them in a heap on the bathroom floor to share a quick but much needed shower, giggling high on adrenaline and anticipation - John nearly slipping in the small wet cubicle - lathering each other teasingly, using Sherlock's ridiculously expensive soap and shampoo.

Afterwards, they both just carelessly wrapped themselves up in dressing gowns, not bothering with t-shirts or underwear, before ordering Thai over the phone.  
They were told it would take up to half an hour, as it was busy dinner time.

“So, then, we have some spare time to pass on our hands, as it seems.”

Sherlock had smiled almost predatory, before nearly jumping John, tearing his dressing gown open while pushing his tongue deep into John's mouth, snogging him nearly senseless. His hands had roamed John's body, who’d just let himself being ferociously groped, equal parts too exhausted and aroused to put up any resistance – which would have been futile, anyway; Sherlock always got what he wanted in the end, that was law at 221b.

At that moment, he'd wanted John Watson, or, more precisely, John's cock. At first Sherlock had wrapped his fingers around John's already half-hard shaft. Encouraged by John's delighted moaning while insistently pushing the silk robe from pale bony shoulders Sherlock had then sunken to the floor in one smooth motion. After elegantly crawling between John's spread legs Sherlock had gone enthusiastically down on him, swallowing John's cock to the hilt.

John's eyes literally had rolled back in his head as Sherlock's talented lips made contact with his pubic bone and the golden curly hair between his legs. His cock had given a keen twitch, obviously in favour of being sucked down Sherlock's throats. Of course, Sherlock had still tried to take him in deeper but even he had to succumb to nature and eventually released John to take a deep breath before continuing his filthy pastime.

He'd set a fast, eager pace until John had to beg him to stop with the desperate appeal cited at the beginning, continuing: “Sherlock, we've got 30 minutes, not 30 seconds. You can take your time.”

As Sherlock raised his eyes to meet John's, his lips slowly slipped off John's very erect prick, making an obscenely wet sound. John could barely contain himself and had to grab the base of his straining cock to keep himself from coming all over Sherlock’s face right on the spot (imagining this specific outcome didn’t help, by the way).

“You want me to go slow?” Sherlock asked, smiling lasciviously and John could only nod in reply as all coherent thoughts had left his brain, reducing him to a horny dick-driven tosser.

“Like this?”

With that, Sherlock achingly gentle started to lick over John's glans, lapping over the slit with just the tip of his tongue. He continued circling the rim before mouthing down the hard shaft until he reached John's bollocks, which he very tenderly took into his mouth one after another, rolling them around with relish, caressing them with his lips and tongue.

John had found his voice again, only to utter a string of increasingly weird profanities. “Fucking God almighty… Jesus bloody Christ… I'll never be able to watch you eat Lo Mein again… or bananas… Fucking hell… thank god you hate bananas… I’d come straight into my pants if I had to witness your salacious mouth wrap around anything remotely phallic… yes, there, right there… fuck, yeah, that's it.”

By this time Sherlock was flicking his tongue against his frenulum and hummed at the praise, the vibration hitting John right beneath his solar plexus. White heat started to pool in John's lower abdomen. As Sherlock decided this would be an excellent moment to pull John's foreskin back over his exposed glans with staunch lips, pushing the tip of his tongue under the loose flesh, swirling it around and around, he left John panting and gasping. To anchor himself, John raked one hand through Sherlock's dark curls, stroking and tugging as to never let him go.

Sherlock groaned in response – muffled by John's throbbing cock in his mouth – and started to suck John off in earnest, taking him in deeper and deeper until the sensitive head of John's dick bumped against the back of Sherlock's throat. The sudden contact made John shiver while Sherlock growled and spluttered, spit drooling from the corners of his lovely mouth, glistening on his chin; John couldn’t avert his eyes from this deviant and licentious sight. Sherlock Holmes coming undone while giving a magnificent blow job was something to behold and treasure.

John got even more turned on as he allowed his left hand to move over Sherlock's throat. Feeling his cock down this wet hot tight passage, combined with Sherlock's skilful tongue massaging the underside of his shaft send him finally over the edge. Sherlock sucked and swallowed every drop, slurping and gulping but never releasing John. The saliva running down his chin mixed with milky cum as he eventually pulled off to take some much needed deep breaths while resting his cheek at the inside of John's trembling thigh.

“Where did you learn to give head like this?” John panted, reaching down to kiss Sherlock passionately, licking, tasting at his chin and jaw. God, this was gloriously filthy!

“In a Mexican jail. There were loads of well-muscled drug offenders. I wrote a paper on the subtle meanings of their gang tattoos afterwards.”

“No, please, don't tell me, I really don't want to know.”

Sherlock seemed inclined to elaborate none the less but John was literally saved by the bell as their delivery arrived.

Before marching down the stairs to pay, John looked back. Sherlock was still on the floor, by now leaning with his back against the sofa. He'd wrapped his dressing gown around his lean frame, not bothering to tie it and it pooled around his long white limbs, his still hard cock flushed a dark crimson between his slim thighs. He looked young and debauched and utterly beautiful.

“You know, after dinner, I might actually be very keen on returning the favour. Are you amendable?”

Sherlock looked at him, all wide eyes and pink cheeks and slowly but very deliberate took himself in hand, stroking lazily up and down.

“You know, I'm actually not that hungry. I'll let you watch while you eat. And as your dish contains bird chillies, the experience afterwards will be exceptional.” He purred, smiling lewdly, almost devilish.

Thus encouraged, John abruptly turned and sprinted down the stairs to grab their food, an eerie grin plastered on his face. All the way descending he thought about an effective way to hide his boner from view while receiving two bags of hot greasy take-away in just his dressing gown. But then he reminded himself that he'd just survived a blow job from Sherlock Holmes - he'd manage.


End file.
